Dear Brother
by Wylie
Summary: Gibbs gets an unexpected visit. *** Category: Hc D A *** Rating: M It probably gets a little creepy in later chapters. *** Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship
1. Chapter 1

**Title****:** Dear Brother

**Author:** Wylie

**Category:** [Hc] [D] [A]

**Pairing:** Gibbs/Abby friendship

**Spoiler: **Nope

**Season:** Not sure. Let's see, who gets involved and decide later... Ziva's in the team.

**Rating:** M (maybe)

**A/N:** Well yes. I'm kind of excited. This is my first story published in English. For every mistake you might find please blame my amazing beta reader laoisbabe. ;) Just kidding. (Please check out her ffs too, they're amazing!) Many many many many thanks to her for helping me!

Still not really sure how this story will end (just had the 1st chapter in my head and I needed to do something with it) but please let me say: It's not Gabby. They won't kiss or get married or things like that. Don't like, don't read.

But if you like the first chapter, please review and let me know if it's worth reading. I'd die for just one review!

~Wylie

**Disclaimer:** Nothing's mine. I do not make money with my ideas. All characters still belongs to CBS, I just borrow them and bring them back when I'm finished. I'm not sure if they will look a bit... „used" afterwards. Hope they don't mind. They sure will be okay.

Any similarities to dead or living persons are coincidental.

**Summary:** Gibbs gets an unexpected visit.

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Chapter 1

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It was shortly after 2:00 a.m. when he looked at the clock again after hours. He was so absorbed in his work that he hadn't noticed how someone had entered through the -as always- unlocked front door to his house. Dust swirled in the air as he blew the wood and freed it from the sawdust. With his hands he checked again to see, if the wood had to be further processed with sandpaper. Then he turned around to his workbench.

That was the moment when he became aware of a sound behind him. There was a reason that he hadn't replaced the creaking wooden landing of the stairs leading down to his basement. His intuition told him that this could be no one who wants to harm him, because then he would already have been dead. But there aren't many people who dared to enter his house at this time of night. When he had found the right tool, he turned towards the stairs and looked at the person standing there.

"Abbs.-" he noted, looking at her quizzically. "What's wrong?"

"Gibbs."

She squeezed out a tear-choked voice, but did not move an inch towards him.

It was quite dark where she stood and yet he didn't take long to realize why she was there. When he passed the lamp that hung over his boat so it no longer blinded him, he discovered the blood on Abby's dark clothes, her hands and face. Gibbs immediately put the tool aside and took the stairs two at a time to get to her.

"Abbs, what happened?" he asked with concern and exerted slight pressure on her shoulders so she sat on the steps.

She didn't seem to actually notice that as soon as she sat, Gibbs was looking for the cause of the blood and palpated her abdomen and back. It did not take long for him to find his hands and his sweater covered in blood from the examination and from Abby's hands which clung to his sweater.

"Abbs, what happened?" he asked again, but Abby didn't seem to be able to answer his question. Tears mingled with the sticky blood on her cheeks as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath.

"He ... I ..."

"Who was that?" Gibbs asked, worried. He patted her head and found a small laceration, but it was far from explaining the huge amounts of blood on her clothes.

"Abby, you're hurt, what happened?" Gibbs sounded somewhat brusque. In a brief moment when her sobs lessened she finally brought out. "He wanted to kill me ...".

"Who?"

"I don't know. He stabbed Teddy..." she whimpered and clung trembling more tightly to his sweater.

Even though Gibbs didn't know who Teddy was, if it was a friend of Abby and she had tried to help him, it would at least explain the vast amounts of blood on her clothes.

"No one is going to hurt you here," Gibbs tried to reassure her. "You should first get out of those clothes."

As Abby made no attempt to agree or move, he waited a few moments before he finally stood up himself and pulled her gently up from the stair.

Once in the upper floor of the house, he took Abby to the bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the tub while he searched for towels and clothes and a trash bag for her belongings. When he came back to the bathroom, Abby sat still as a picture of misery on the edge of the tub and looked at her bloodied hands. Gibbs put the items on the toilet lid and took a moment to look at her closely. He still had no idea what Abby had witnessed that evening. He knew after years of experience out in the field and by his work as an investigator, that some things might look worse as they actually were. But the sight in front of him worried him. The usually lively forensic specialist of NCIS seemed anything but lively and cheerful right now. Gibbs wondered when he had last seen her like that. Had he EVER seen her like that? No. The strange feeling in his gut agreed. Never.

It was time to do something. After an exhausting week and a complicated murder case on the USS Abraham Lincoln it made him almost feeling sorry that he has to wake his team in the middle of the night. And yet every one of them were aware of what their job demanded of them sometimes. Especially when it came to the life of a colleague and friend. And Gibbs knew that.

"Do you think you can manage?" he asked gently. Abby nodded.

He closed the door behind him and went back to the basement, grabbed his cell phone and dialed Tony's number.

"Boss?" came the tired and confused-sounding voice of Tony quietly through the telephone. "Why are you still awake? What's going on?"

"There was a stabbing. Abby was injured and there's at least one dead. Find out where and when it took place tonight."

"Abby was injured? Is she okay?" Tony asked sounding worried and not that tired anymore.

"She's fine. I'll take care of her," Gibbs replied curtly. "Tell the others and let me know if there is anything new."

"Sure thing, Boss!"

Gibbs hung up and went to his bedroom to get himself some new clothes. When he walked past the bathroom, he paused and listened. Nothing could be heard. He hesitated briefly, but then thought of Abby's boots. To open the knee-high lacing would take longer than he needed to make a call- that was for sure.

After putting on a fresh sweater, he peered out the window into the darkness. He probably knew his surroundings better than anyone else in his neighbourhood. There was nothing unusual to be seen, but it was possible that Abby's tormentors had perhaps followed. He sighed and throw a glance at the swing he had attached to the tree in his backyard decades ago. Who would want her to die? Someone from their own ranks maybe? It would not be the first time, but he couldn't think of anyone who might hold a grudge against her. Her clothes suggested that she was at a party. Perhaps an unwanted admirer who refused to be ignored? No. Then Abby would at least know his name. His mind raced as long as he stood at the window, watching his surroundings.

When he looked at the clock after some time, during which he had boiled coffee and did some other things, he began to worry. Abby was already half an hour in the bathroom and he still heard nothing. He gently knocked on the door.

"Abby? Everything okay with you?"

He waited a few moments, but got no response. The strange feeling in his gut wouldn't go away easily.

"Abbs? I'm coming in now." He warned her and opened the door a crack.

Abby sat just there, where he had left her and stared ahead. Gibbs knelt before her to look her in the eyes.

"You wanted to shower."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

As he spoke, he began to open her boot lacings.

"Gibbs, what are you doing?" she asked softly.

"What does it look like?"

He finally seemed to get her full attention. Once he had taken off her boots, he looked at her quizzically.

"No. I can do the rest on my own." she murmured, but continued to just sit there.

"I'll give you 20 minutes. Then I want you standing in the living room showered and with fresh clothes on." he said and stood up. He waited until Abby nodded almost unnoticeable before he left the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He waited a moment, until he finally heard the faucet squeak moments later. Then he went down to the basement.

He didn't need much time to find the first aid box. It looked so dusty that one could assume that Gibbs has had it either a very long time or had never used it. He wiped the dust off and inspected the contents. Complete. As expected. With the box in hand he went back upstairs to the living room. He reached for his cup and took a long sip of coffee before he prepared the bandages and waited for Abby. Though he carried it with him he took his phone from his pocket and threw a glance on it. He didn't really expect that he might have missed a call from his team, but as long as he didn't trust that kind of technology, checking felt right.

.

Almost exactly 20 minutes later she entered the room. The USMC shirt and sweatpants were a great contrast to her usually tight-fitting clothes that hid rarely more than necessary. Her hair hung half-heartedly wiped in wet streaks down her head. She wore the hair ties around her wrists as usual when she didn't feel like wearing her rat tails- like Cate had called her hairstyle lovingly. Cate. How happy Abby was that she hadn't to watch Ari killing her back then. She never felt more relieved about that than on this night.

"Do you feel better now?" Gibbs asked, beckoning her to join him on the couch. She looked at the bandages and nodded.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Will you tell me now, what exactly happened?" he asked cautiously and turned her head toward him so that he could attend to the small laceration.

"I ... was at a party."

She swallowed.

"There was a guy who watched me the whole time I was there, I think. It was an odd feeling when I noticed him."

A shiver ran down her spine and she closed her eyes briefly at the thought of him. The small laceration on her forehead was burning.

"After some time he came over to me, and asked if I'm actually "THE Abby Sciuto from NCIS". It was so weird. Ow!"

Abby winced as Gibbs pressed an alcohol swab to the wound.

"The guy asked if he could buy me a drink."

Gibbs stuck a plaster on her forehead and looked at her expectantly. But she made no attempt to talk further.

"And? Did he?" Gibbs finally asked. Abby nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. She looked down as she went on.

"He said that he admired my work and wanted to go somewhere quieter to talk. So we went outside. The drink and the fresh air made me slightly dizzy and he pushed me further and further into a dark corner near the club. I tried to defend myself, but I could not. He hit me in the face ... or at least tried to. Teddy was immediately there to help me. I don't know how he noticed what was happening, but when...," she paused, her breath trembling. "When I realised what was going on, Teddy collapsed into my arms and I had been pushed down by his weight. There was blood just everywhere. I knew immediately that he was dead."

Abby closed eyes for a moment and tried to gather her thoughts unsuccessfully.

"The guy seemed to know so much about me... suddenly he was gone and the cops where by my side. I just didn't know where to go to, and ... "

Gibbs tried to calm Abby and embraced her.

"That bastard won't come near you again." he said calmly.

"He's killed one of my best friends. In front of me. I'm afraid that he will continue until he finally gets me. "

Gibbs pressed a kiss on her forehead.

"I saw the insane look in his eyes. What if he suddenly showed up here? But at least he doesn't know where I am. How did he know where I was a few hours ago...?"

He felt her sudden tension. That was exactly what Gibbs was wondering and it worried him too.

"You should go to bed, Abby. We'll talk later when you've had at least a bit of sleep."

Abby knew she should accept his offer and yet she enjoyed the warmth of his embrace so much in that moment that she didn't really wanted to get up.

"But I don't feel that tired."

She tried to protest but his glare told her that he would carry her to the guest room against her will if necessary.

"I know that it's always difficult in a situation like this to calm down and deal with it, especially when you don't know who wants to harm you. Remember the last guy who tried to kill you because you had to make a statement in court?"

Abby grinned slightly as she recalled the guy who cried like a girl when she zapped him with the taser.

"So don't worry about this guy. We'll get him."

Abby could imagine that their "family" already knew what had happened tonight, and that they were already trying to find the bastard. She had to admit that he was right.

"You're right." she sighed and wiped the wet traces of tears from her face.

Gibbs watched her as she left the room and then picked up his mobile.

"Hey, Boss." greeted Tony, who sounded not nearly as tired as before.

"What have you got?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"Not much, Boss. I checked with my contacts at Metro PD. You would not believe what's happening on a Saturday, -"

"DiNozzo!"

"We have five possible crime scenes. It would help if you were able to ask Abby, where it happened. How is she?"

"She's asleep. She told me she'd been at a party before she came here."

"A party. Ok. Gothic, I guess. I'll take a look at the files when I'm in the office."

"We'll join you as soon as we can."

Gibbs hung up and made a tour through the house, checked that all windows and doors were locked. On the way, he took his spare 9mm out of hiding and his bedding out of the bedroom and went back to the living room. He placed the pillow and the blanket in the usual way on the couch and lay down. It has been years since he'd slept in his own bed. The first nights without Shannon back then were pure horror so he'd decided pretty quickly to sleep on the couch.

He weighed up the decision wether to sleep or not. He felt like he should stay awake to protect her. But despite his good intentions he fell asleep as soon as he had closed his eyes for just a second to gather his thoughts. But it was not long before he was woken by a noise right next to him. Instinctively, he pointed his 9mm in the direction from where the sound came. He didn't even let his eyes focus and identify the person.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A big thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and/or faved the story. That means so much to me, you can't imagine!**

**I should have told you that I'm not going to post a new chap every week or so. I feel kind of sorry that you have to wait so long for a new update. But as I already told you, I'm not English and the translation and beta-ing just takes some time as I still have to do something for a living. ;) I hope you're not too angry with me and just enjoy the new chapter. Reviews are welcome! Big thanks again to laoisbabe for beta-ing. - wylie**

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Chapter 2

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"Gibbs! It's just me!"

Abby was startled and looked even more troubled than before she went to bed. Although she could think of him having a spare gun at home, she never imagined him aiming at her so that she was looking straight into the barrel. She stopped dead in front of the coffee table. She definitely wasn't prepared for such a situation.

"I ... I'm sorry ... I didn't wanted to wake you."

"No? So what are you doing down here?" asked Gibbs, who had laid the 9mm aside and wiped his face with one hand.

"I can't sleep, so I... thought that... maybe... you could keep me company - Actually I thought I'd find you upstairs in your bedroom, but you weren't there. So I started to get a bit nervous because it made no sense to me that you weren't there. But then suddenly it made sense because you could have been in your basement instead of sleeping, working on something..."

She played nervously with her fingers as she waited for an answer and babbled more to herself than to Gibbs.

"I always sleep down here."

He interrupted her babbling which was giving him a headache.

"And no, I'm not telling you why. Come here."

Gibbs moved a bit to the side and made room for her as far as possible on the small sofa. Following the invitation, Abby lay down next to him. She pressed herself slightly against his body so that he had no other option but to put his arm around her to get at least somewhat comfortable. While he fell asleep almost instantaneously Abby grinned to herself. What would Tony or McGee say if they came through the door right now? The thought of it distracted her a little from her experiences tonight and made her relax a bit. His smell and warmth made her feel safe and calmed her down even more.

"Thanks,-" she muttered, and was finally able to get some rest.

.

That morning they drove to the Navy Yard. Because following the attack she had refused to be examined by the local paramedics, Gibbs insisted that Ducky take a look at her. Abby tried to protest but she knew that Gibbs wouldn't give her a choice.  
After he took her to the Autopsy and fetched himself a large cup of his favorite coffee, he exited the elevator on the floor of the squad room. He could see his team. They were sitting at their desks, on telephones or focused on the PC monitor in front of them. He wondered what they'd found out.

"What have you got?" he asked impatiently.

Tony and Ziva immediately jumped up from their seats when they heard him. Both looked as if they'd received about as much sleep as he- or even less.

Tony wasn't as dressed up as they were used to seeing him at the Navy Yard. Today his choice of clothes reminded Gibbs of the time when Tony used to work as a police officer in Baltimore. Instead wearing one of his expensive Italian suits he wore jeans and a shirt which he hadn't even made the effort to stick into his pants. His hair had the classic just- out- of- bed- style that he usually avoided when working. He probably hadn't even showered.  
Gibbs wondered what must happen for Ziva not to look like Ziva. He didn't notice any difference to her clothes or hairstyle. Only her tired looking eyes betrayed her and showed her exhaustion from being thrown out of bed in the middle of the night.

"How's Abby?" McGee asked concerned as he stood up.

Unlike the other two, McGee didn't look nearly as sleepy as them. Presumably he was most worried about Abby after Tony had informed them about the incident. The four empty coffee cups in the trash cans of Tony and Ziva revealed that at least McGee needed no caffeine to function. It was no secret that McGee still felt more than just friendship for Abby. Gibbs welcomed the fact that his co-worker handled it professionally 99% of the time, with very few exceptions. He guessed that McGee's adrenaline, pushed up by the fear for Abby, kept him awake and made him searching for answers harder than Tony and Ziva.

"I asked first," Gibbs said gruffly and Tony started reciting the results of their research.

Images appeared from the crime scene on the large screen. Some pictures were taken from the surveillance camera, others taken by the police after the crime was reported.

"Our scene is close to "The Meeting Place", 1707 L Street NW. On the surveillance camera it can be seen quite clearly how Abby was leaving the club with the unknown guy."

McGee explained the video footage and let Tony zoom through the short video sequence.  
Because Gibbs knew what Abby was wearing that night, it was easy for him to recognize her, despite the crowd on the video. The way she left the club with the unknown person didn't seem to be forced or anyway conspicuous. Quite the contrary, she seemed to enjoy the evening. His eyes bored into the back of the stranger as he listened to his team.

"The problem is that we got him only from behind on the video. We can't make a good mug shot out of it." added Tony and pressed the remote control. On screen appeared a creased blood donor card and a driver's license belonging to a black-haired man and in the background a few crime scene pictures of his corpse.

"Our victim is Theodore Enright. Mid-30s, not married, no children. No criminal record, never drove too fast, no thefts, donated blood and plasma at Providence Hospital. He was a regular guest at the club during the "Gothic Nights". He worked in a home for juvenile delinquents in Alexandria. He was a good man so it's no wonder Abby liked him."

"That's all?" Gibbs asked sounding almost disappointed.

"Nobody seems to have seen our criminal, let alone noticed the incident itself," Ziva said.

"No video footage of the murder?" asked Gibbs.

"Unfortunately not. The surveillance camera only records the entrance and the immediate surrounding area. No chance of getting a shot of the backyard."

"McGee, you'll go through all cctv that is available to us and look for all scenes where Abby is seen."

Gibbs turned to Tony and Ziva.

"Both of you go to the scene and interview employees of the club and other possible witnesses. I don't want you coming back with empty hands. As quickly as the Metro PD was on the scene, someone must have observed the attack."

Without another word Gibbs walked to the elevator.

"And what are you up to, Boss?" DiNozzo asked and regretted it immediately because of the stare Gibbs threw at him.

.

"How is she, Ducky?" was the first thing that came to his mind as he entered the Autopsy.

"As expected, Jethro," Ducky said quietly as he placed the last crosses on a form.

"Any injuries that I missed?"

"None."

Ducky put the form aside and went to the light board with some X-rays

"As you can see, the skull bones are intact. I have cleaned and examined the small laceration again. There will be nothing more than a tiny scar in a few weeks, I'm sure. You did a good job, Jethro. I remember Marines, who failed at dressing a wound on active duty when I was in-"

Gibbs glanced impatiently at him breaking off his storytelling.

"I'm sorry. But you know how much I love to remember the good old days when I was out there in the field myself. I know you want me to stay on track but it was just so tempting to tell the story. Of course, the death of Abby's friend has naturally thrown her off track. I think we all know how she's feeling right now. Losing a good friend and having to watch him die is nothing one copes with easily."

Ducky sighed and moved over to his desk. Gibbs followed him slowly.

"Where's she now?" asked Gibbs.

He'd expected that she would stay down there putting her statement on paper but when he thought about it, he knew where he would find her.

"Where do you think? In her lab, of course. You're not the only one who distracts themselves with work, Jethro," Ducky said, patting him on the shoulder.

"The corpse hasn't arrived yet?"

"It's here, it arrived two hours ago. I just wanted to spare Abigail the sight of it while I examined her," Ducky said and went to one of the coolers.

"I'll perform the autopsy, although the manner of death of this young man is already known. But maybe I'll find something that will help us catch the offender."

When he got no response, he turned around and saw the glass doors shut.

.

"What are you doing here?"

Unlike other days when he had entered her lab, he didn't have to scream to be heard over her music. It was deathly quiet. His eyes went over the evidence, which was laid out on the table behind his favourite forensic specialist. Blood and fabric samples were waiting in test tubes for the Mass Spec, empty plastic containers wanted to be filled and recorded. It was rare, but at first glance it didn't look like there was a lot of work in Abby's lab. This was certainly not the case, especially today, since her own case was not the only one needing solving.

"Working."

"I see that. But you should be downstairs writing your statement."

Abby tapped onto a manila folder lying on the table next to her and calibrated the microscope onto a fibre sample on which she concentrated at the same time.

"Already done. I wrote down everything that occurred to me, but I couldn't remember anything more than I told the police."

"Abbs..."

"What?" she asked slightly annoyed looking up from the microscope. She wanted to work and she hated getting interrupted by anyone.

"You witnessed a murder. You shouldn't analyze any evidence that belongs to your own case."

"There is no one else here who can do it."

She finished calibrating the microscope and was now ready to type complex letter combinations onto her computer keyboard which instantly opened some windows on the screen. Then she went through the glass door to the back of her lab.

"I've already found a stand-in for you..." Gibbs said and followed her through the glass door.

"You know how it bothers me when other people are down here touching my machines. Then there's nothing in its proper place and I need at least a week until I've fixed the mess. But there's a simple solution: I sent the guy home."

"Abby, this isn't funny," he sighed and watched Abby as she took the bag with her bloody clothes and a few test tubes and bowls from a shelf.

"I don't think it's funny either, Gibbs."

She tried to go past him through the door but he blocked her path. His stare told her right away that he didn't agree with what she was doing here. And yet the stare was more gentle than expected. It was one rare tiny moment in his life where he allowed himself to show some feelings. He didn't do it in front of everyone, but Abby was one exception. She knew that and was grateful for the trust he put into their friendship, but this time she insisted on her position.

"This is _my _lab and Teddy was _my_ friend."

She tried to swallow down the lump that was forming in her throat as she thought of Teddy. She saw him again in front of her, bleeding, gasping for air one last time. It was playing like a movie in her mind's eye, not for the first time that day. Besides him she saw herself there with him, kneeling next to Teddy on the ground. As if she was a third person witnessing it all. She tried to suppress her feelings. She wanted to be strong and ensure her tormentor was found and known why Teddy had to die instead of her. It was all buzzing confusingly around in her head.

Abby didn't notice when Gibbs said her name several times, trying to get her out of her trance, not even as he hugged her. It was only when she felt his breath on her neck that she realized that she wasn't kneeling in dirt and blood next to her dead friend anymore. She was back in her lab.

"Have you created a photofit?" Gibbs asked and gently broke the embrace. Abby nodded.

"Yes, but I didn't remember the face very well. It's probably not very helpful," she said uncertainly.

"Show me."

He followed her to her computer and took a look at the printout.

"Doesn't look that bad."

"But I can't be sure to 100% that he really looks like that. I can't even put 20% certainty into it."

"Don't worry about it. I'll get McGee to go through all databases. Maybe we'll get lucky. Meanwhile, I call on your replacement and send him down here. Don't argue."

He took the printout and went on his way back upstairs.

.

"Mr. Tucker. You work here in this bar, don't you?"

Ziva looked at the man quizzically. Tony's eyes stopped at a few older pictures hanging behind the man. The pictures showed Chris with some of his staff who had already been interrogated, but there were also some pictures with other people who probably had nothing to do with the business. Much to Tony's disappointment, Charles hadn't many pictures hanging on the wall with pretty women in it.

"Since day one, yes."

Charles calmly cleared up a few dishes and put them back into the cupboard while he answered Ziva's and Tony's questions.

"Did you notice anything unusual last night?"

"No. Until the chaos in the street it was quiet just like every other evening."

"What did you notice later on?"

Charles had just turned his back to them as Tony asked the question. He immediately turned back to the agent and raised his hands defensively.

"Listen I'd really love to help you but the store was packed. The murder happened behind the house. No one pays any attention when we're busy at the weekend. Not us nor the doormen outside."

"Have you seen this man?"

DiNozzo held up a picture of Theodore and looked at Charles almost expectantly. They had been on the road for two hours already but so far they didn't find anything useful. The statements of the employees compared with Charles': Too much to do to notice anything odd.

"Yes, that's Teddy, a regular guest. He came to every gothic styled party we arranged over the last few years. Poor guy. He was a really good man."

"What about this woman?"

DiNozzo now held up a picture of Abby.

"Abby, a faithful soul. Visits regularly. I hope nothing happened to her?"

"No, she's fine," Ziva said.

"And to keep it that way we need your help," added DiNozzo.

"She didn't leave with the bar with Teddy last night but with another man. Have you seen him?"

"Not a familiar face. Left a strange impression on me. From what I could see, he clung to her like a leech."

Charles paused and looked quizzically at the two agents in front of him.

"Did the guy-?"

Ziva nodded.

"That's what we assume, yes. Furthermore we suspect that he actually wanted to kill Abby, not Theodore."

Charles looked at Ziva and Tony and then looked down again to the counter in front of him.

"I'm really sorry- I can't tell you more but I'll keep my eyes open. I'd know him if he came back."

Ziva nodded approvingly and Tony gave him a business card. They said goodbye and left the bar.

"That wasn't very successful."

Ziva sighed and looked at the surrounding area. With the exception of the barrier everything looked peaceful. This didn't seem to be a shabby area. She scanned the environment for possible observation points which provided a good view of the crime scene. While they hadn't been successful with the bar staff, then perhaps one of the residents of the neighborhood saw something.

"What did you expect, Ziva? That the alleged eyewitnesses will reveal more to us than to Metro PD? Most people don't even know what NCIS means, unlike the FBI or CIA."

Before Ziva could respond Tony's cell phone rang.

"McHarasser. What's up?"

"Very funny, Tony. I have looked through most of the video material available to us. Unfortunately, none of the tapes got the face of our fugitive."

"And you're calling to tell me that?"

"If you would let me finish, Tony, you'd know why I'm calling. I found a shot on the surveillance video of the bar where I saw that Abby's companion was holding a glass or cup in his hand. However, there were no similar items in the evidence we received from Metro PD."

"All right, Probie."

Tony hung up and felt Ziva's questioning look. He knew what they had to do.

"We are looking for a cup or glass that is missing from the evidence. It's on the video," he told her.

"If nothing was picked up by Metro PD, the object might not be at the scene," Ziva concluded.

"Or already in the trash."

Tony's eyes wandered over the garbage cans near-by and he wrinkled his nose unconsciously. This was the part of the job, he didn't like. He made an inviting gesture.

"Ladies first."

.

"I guess that the stab wounds on the body of the deceased comes most likely from a butterfly knife." Ducky explained to Gibbs. "The blade didn't penetrate the body very deeply, but it was enough to cause serious damage."

"Which one was fatal?"

"That's the question I was afraid of. I can't tell you for sure. Come over here and let me show you something."

Ducky went back over to the corpse and pointed to one of the wounds on the abdomen. Gibbs followed him and tried not to think about that in front of him lay someone who was close to Abby, cut open from his shoulders to the pubic bone, revealing all damage to the inner organs that the attacker made with his knife. Gibbs tried even more not to think of Abby lying here on the cold table instead of Theodore. He focused on what Ducky wanted to show him.

"This cut went straight through the spleen. And over there, the knife punctuated the aorta just below the diaphragm and tore it open by withdrawing the blade. Both injuries would be certainly fatal because of the massive blood loss involved."

"Is this a professional killer, Duck?"

"No, Jethro. I don't think so. The stab wounds occurs randomly on the body as far as I can tell. It was rather a coincidence that he landed two deadly wounds."

Gibbs was undecided whether he should interpret this as a good or bad news. It seemed that it was at least not a trained professional killer. But this didn't make the stranger necessarily less dangerous. In some circumstances a madman with a knife could be a lot more dangerous as an experienced killer.

"Actually he tried to kill Abby not this man."

"Yes, I know. Presumably he was panicking unsure of his intentions and reacted on impulse when he stabbed Mr. Enright."

"So he's unpredictable." concluded Gibbs and Ducky nodded approvingly.

"Unfortunately this corpse tells us nothing about his intentions let alone how he knows Abigail."

"And that's why we take care of her until we catch him." Gibbs said as he left Autopsy.

.

A few hours later

Abby remained silent for nearly the entire ride to Gibbs' house which seemed to be quite atypical for her. Her head was leaning against the side window while her tired eyes watched the trees and houses sliding past. She couldn't help but to think the whole time of her bloody clothes and Teddy's face. He had stared at her in agony when he slid to the ground with her. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to erase the pictures, but it wasn't working just like in the past hours. Presumably, it would take months if not years for these scenes to fade in her mind until eventually she would no longer wake up because of them, like she had last night.

It didn't matter how the dream in her head started, it always ended the same. She'd done many things with Teddy, but the memories she had of the trips they made always mingled up with the events of the night before. Abby didn't remember exactly how many times she'd woken Gibbs with her sudden screaming and thrashing. Her perception played a prank on her. Instead of safe, she suddenly felt harrassed, unable to tell by whom she was being held onto the small sofa. It took quite some time for her to realize that it wasn't Teddy's killer ontop of her, but Gibbs, who was trying to wake her from the nightmare. She never imagined him to be this patient with anyone but he had given her all the time in the world to calm down again after each nightmare.

Gibbs sat behind the wheel and took a look at her every now and then through the corner of his eye. He knew he shouldn't worry as much about her as he actually did. She'd already seen and experienced worse things as the death of a friend and yet he hated to see her down-hearted like that. The feeling that stays after losing a loved one is terrible. And yet it takes such a long time before you learn to live with it. Gibbs wasn't the only one who knew that.

Tony and Ziva had taken all possible drinking container to the lab, hoping they found the right DNA and fingerprints to match the killer's. Unfortunately, they found more cups than they'd hoped to. That meant that the scans of all databases would take at least until the next morning, probably even longer.

It was already quite late, as Abby and Gibbs made their way home. Gibbs was mentally still in search of the killer and he'd probably be until they found that guy. He was in protector mode with Abby by his side.

His eyes scanned the highway ahead and the cars that came to towards them. At regular intervals his gaze slid to the rear view mirror to watch the cars behind them. He registered if they had followed them for only a short time until they overtook or if they were longer in the rearview mirror than he'd wished. They'd made the longest part of the route without incident, until Gibbs attention lessened.

"Have you eaten something today?"

He looked briefly at Abby before concentrating on the road again. It took a moment before he heard her move next to him.

"No, I wasn't hungry," she mumbled, staring out the window.

"What about now?"

Abby shook her head. She hadn't even touched her cup of Caf-Pow! Today. She still carried it with her.

"No. Not hungry."

"Not even for the best burger in town? The nearest drive-thru is right after the next exit."

He glanced at Abby. He noticed the tear stains on her face as she looked back at him and tried to smile briefly.

"All right. But only because I know that you won't stop asking."

Abby turned back around to the side window and sighed.

Gibbs took the next exit off the highway and stopped at a red light that followed shortly thereafter. He know what she was thinking about so he didn't comment about the sigh. His eyes went from Abby to the rearview mirror. He immediately strengthened his grip on the wheel. He noticed that the van behind them was clearly coming too fast. Why hadn't he noticed it before? Gibbs' gaze focused on the driver of the van whose eyes were stubbornly fixed on the sedan in front of him, like a target he wanted to hit.  
Gibbs checked the road: It was full of traffic at this time. If he was going to make a decision, he had to make it fast. There wasn't much time left.

Abby sensed his sudden tension when he looked again in the rearview mirror and to traffic lights.

"Gibbs, what's wrong?"

She turned back and stared open mouthed at the van which came closer very fast, not even slowing down slightly .

"Hold on tight."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and faves! I had the right inspiration for this chapter, so here it is! -wylie  
**

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Chapter 3

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Abby had barely time to prepare herself before Gibbs put the pedal to the metal. He hoped that the intersection would be free when they passed through. A heavy crack and flying glass splinters shattered his hopes.

A small car that couldn't brake in time sped into the rear passenger side of the sedan and spun it in the middle of the intersection seconds before the truck rammed into the passenger side aswell. The vehicles came to a halt and dead silence fell over the intersection. Here and there small pieces of glass fell to the ground, cooling- and brake fluid snaked their way around the pieces.

It took a while for the first curious onlookers to walk by. Also, there were some first-aiders trying to get the less seriously injured out of the danger zone. Wailing sirens came closer. Officers and paramedics barricaded the intersection and freed the severely injured.

Gibbs was unconscious, hanging by his belt. His head had made unpleasant acquaintance with the side window that sent him instantly into an infinite depth.  
Only when he was addressed directlydid he briefly wake from his unconscious state and mumbled incomprehensible stuff before again losing conciousness.

.

Nearly two hours later he awoke in a room of the Inova Alexandria Hospital, the nearest to the accident location. The first thing he noticed was the dull headache which made it difficult for him to open his eyes and acclimatize to the bright lights of the infirmary. Gibbs frowned then noticed that something was sticking to his temple and twinged. When he tried to find out what it was, he also noticed something stuck to his hand. A sharp pain in his lower rib area made it difficult to get air. His ears seemed to focus on his surroundings. The alarming beeping of the monitor behind him on the wall slowly gave him an idea of where he was. Why was he here? What had happened?  
The beeping made him nervous and he tried one more time to breathe deeply before once again the pain reminded him that it wasn't a good idea. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to orient himself.

„Good God, Jethro. What happened?" he heard a familiar voice talking to him.

He recognised the Scottish voice but it took some time before he was able to associate it correctly. His eyes were trying to get used to the bright light to make sure he correctly identified the person standing before him. He eventually succeeded as that person shielded him from the light.

„Ducky..." Gibbs said weakly and confused.

„Well, at least this time you remember me."

Ducky smiled down at him but his face looked worried and tense. It seemed to Gibbs that Ducky had spent quite some time at his bedside. His jacket hung over the end of the bed. On the table stood a cup of tea. He'd taken a seat on a chair next to Jethro's bed.

"What happened?" Gibbs asked confused trying to remember anything that might help him put together how he ended up in this bed. But he had no recollection of the last few hours. It was all blank. He closed his eyes and tried to suppress the nausea that was unfolding. The familiar headache reminded him all too well of past concussions. Carefully, he opened his eyes again and looked at Ducky.

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Jethro. Your car was found at a crossroads, not far from here. You were involved in an accident with two other vehicles. It looks like you've been very fortunate. The man in one of the other cars didn't make it. Oh, and before you ask yourself how I knew that you're here: Metro PD found your badge and your weapon in the car and informed NCIS. Tony, Ziva and McGee are on their way to the accident scene securing evidence."

Gibbs looked at Ducky as if he hadn't the slightest idea what his friend was talking about. This was one of those rare moments in the life of Special Agent Gibbs where no neutral facial expression could hide his insecurity.

"Accident?" he asked incredulously, wincing as his ribs reminded him to breathe more carefully.

He closed his eyes again trying to breathe through the pain and to remember what had happened. Accident. Close to the hospital. It was definitely not the Bethesda emergency room or intensive care unit that he knew only too well. He was in Inova? That must mean that he was on his way home. Or more likely to work? He had no idea what time of day or night it was right now. The stress made him feel nauseous again. Both reflected instantly on his heartbeat and the monitor alarm sounded, but Ducky pressed the correct button and turned it silent again.

"Jethro, I must ask you something else. I fear it..."

"Ducky, where's Abby?"

It suddenly shot out of him and he looked pleadingly at Ducky.

"She was with me in the car. Where is she, Duck?"

"I don't know, Jethro. I'm very worried. Tony had told me that she has been with you."

Although he knew he should stay in bed, he attempted to get out of it. He tried to ignore the protest of his bruised ribs, the pain in his left shoulder as well as the dizziness and nausea that pretty quickly grew inside him. The memory of the accident came back suddenly and kicked him in the stomach. He tried to concentrate on Abby.

"What about another hospital?" he asked and clambered his legs out of bed.

"No, she hasn't been taken to hospital."

Ducky stood directly in front of his friend and tried with slight pressure on the right shoulder to stop him from rising.

"Jethro, you received quite a blow to the head. You really should stay in bed." Ducky said trying to soothe him, but it didn't calm Gibbs down at all knowing that Abby was neither in this or any other hospital.

"I'm fine."

"After this accident,-"

"That wasn't an accident, Duck! Otherwise Abby wouldn't be missing. That scumbag hit us on purpose and took her."

"Because he hadn't managed to kill her. He failed again," Ducky suspected, then let go of Gibbs and sighed.

"I'm afraid that it doesn't make much sense to try and prevent you from getting up and running around. I know what you have in mind but from a medical perspective, I have to insist that you let your team do their job and,-"

"Where's my phone?" Gibbs asked with his eyes searching the room for his clothes.

Ducky looked at Gibbs for a moment and then went to one of the chairs near the door and peered into a bag. With one hand he searched the contents for the phone. The desired object found he went back to Gibbs and put the phone in his hand. Ducky knew better than to try and to prevent Gibbs from doing something any longer. But he'd at least tried.

"I'll let you get clean clothes and your release papers. But only if you promise that you'll stay in bed until I'm back."

.

The first thing she felt was almost unbearable pain. Each breath was burning in her lungs. Her neck was tense like she'd spend a long restless night in her lab. Abby tried to open her eyes but blood and tears combined with dizziness made clear vision impossible. The pain in her back radiated in every possible direction as she tried to move. She was lying on a dusty, cold, wooden floor that probably hadn't been cleaned in the last few decades. She felt dirty, not dirty in a good way like she enjoyed feeling sometimes. She felt like crap.

Abby blinked and tried to get a clearer view. She was lying on her left arm so she tried to wipe her eyes with her right hand but a sharp pain stopped her and made her moan. Carefully she made a second attempt but failed yet again. The pain was too strong. Abby tried to breathe through the pain as best as she could, but was quickly overcome by sudden nausea.  
She vomited and gasped for air. Instinctively she was careful not to suffocate or land face down in the vomit and totally forgot about her likely broken arm and leaned on it. The pain made stars appear in front of her eyes and she retched again.

„_God, that hurts..."_

Her retching seemed to have attracted attention. Steps creaked next to her head on the rotten wooden floor and made her wince. The stranger walked around her several times but Abby was unable to focus on his shoes or to look up to see his face. She was lying helpless in front of him. Suddenly it became clear that whatever he was planning in his dirty mind he definitely would have no problem carrying it out. He knew she was on the verge of conciousness. She felt her panic rise.

She tried to remember what had happened. Even more panic crept up in her as she felt the gaze of the stranger fix on her and she still couldn't recall anything that had happened to put her into this state. Had he been there the whole time? Did he batter her? Did he perhaps rape her? If so, why couldn't she remember a thing?

Abby was rudely torn from her thoughts when she was turned on to her back. Her tormentor didn't bother to bend down but gave her a deliberate kick in the stomach instead. Now lying on her back and gasping for air she had the opportunity to see his face. Through the veil in front of her eyes, she saw the sardonic grin of her tormentor. She took it with her into the darkness as the veil thickened.

.

"We collected 240 cups and matched 14 DNA samples in CODIS. About ten of them look similar to our killer," Tony sighed and took out a sandwich.

"How many of those had to do with NCIS?" asked Ziva and took a sip of coffee.

"Four. Two of them are still behind bars," Tony replied looking over to McGee, who released his anger that moment.

"I just can't believe it!"

McGee stared aghast at the photos of the vehicles in front of him on the monitor. Deformed steel, shattered windshields. All this the result of a pretty bad accident. An accident that could have been avoided, Tim was sure of.

"What do you mean, McSkeptic?" Tony asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"The fact that he put her in danger!" Tim replied, and clicked his way through the images without paying much attention to any details.

He stopped at the picture with the damaged passenger side of Gibbs' Chrysler close-up. Had someone been sitting in the back seat they would certainly not have survived the accident. But also the passenger had been damn lucky to get out of the wreckage alive.

"What do you mean?" Tony asked skeptically, rising from his chair and walking over to McGee.

"The map showed the shortest way home, on the highway, but they'd left the highway too soon."

"Maybe they were being followed," Ziva said, bringing herself into the conversation.

"Even then it would have been better to stay on the highway instead of driving through the town."

"Oh. Since when are you an expert when it comes to car chases and hijacking, McGee?" Tony asked pertly and took a second bite from his sandwich.

"I'm not an expert, Tony. But without this detour Abby would probably not have been kidnapped."

"So you doubt that Gibbs skills are good enough when it comes to protecting someone, yes?" Tony said with his mouth full.

"Well yes, Tony."

"Why? Jealous?" teased Tony and watched McGee's response to this question. "Because you messed up when her sick ex-lover was after her back then?"

Tony went back to his desk and smiled at Ziva. He knew that the situation was serious but he couldn't miss an opportunity to torment McGee. And as long as Gibbs wasn't near by it would be okay.

"I think Ziva agrees with me. You're worried that the train has left the station, because Abby is more attracted to real men instead of nerds like you."

"Oh yes, absolutely. Abby mentioned more than once that she's attracted to older men." Ziva laughed and sipped her coffee again.

"We'll probably never know exactly how they spent the night after the attack," teased Tony and enjoyed McGee's face. "His basement... rule #12 simply ignored..."

"Leave it, Tony. I'm not jealous, " McGee replied angrily.

"Then what _is _your problem, McGee?"

The team, but especially McGee, held their breath as the voice of Gibbs echoed through the squad room. No one had noticed his presence. Tony choked on his sandwich and tried to cough as inconspicuously as possible. He didn't want, in any case, to draw Gibbs' attention to him. Gibbs quickly crossed the squad room, not nearly as elegant and lively as usual and walked purposefully toward McGee's desk.

"I ... uhm ... I ... have no problem, Boss." McGee stammered nervously in front of him.

"Not what it sounded a minute ago."

Gibbs looked at him with a penetrating gaze. McGee wanted to drop dead on the spot. But nothing happened. He felt the colour draining from his face while Gibbs stared at him.

"Why don't you say it to my face, McGee?"

Gibbs looked expectantly at McGee. His expression was calm, but those who knew him knew that he was boiling inside. And the non-answering of a direct question didn't help.

"Jethro, I think Tim didn't mean it as it sounded. He's just as stressed and shocked by this incident as all of us and worried about our dear Abigail."

Ziva and Tony turned to Ducky who had viewed the spectacle from afar. They hadn't noticed his presence before and all of them were surprised to hear his voice. Gibbs still glared at McGee and the computer specialist knew for sure that if looks could kill- he would be dead by now.  
It took ages until finally Gibbs looked away. Ducky was right. It was understandable that Tim reacted oversensitively to the events. However, it was time to look at the whole thing again, less emotionally, more professionally.

"Do we have any hints as to where Abby might be?" Gibbs finally asked and looked expectantly at his team. But instead of answering him he was just met by their puzzled looks.

"Boss, we ... uhm ... didn't expect you to be here today," Tony stammered.

"We thought you'd stay at least one night in the hospital," Ziva said, trying to apologize for the behavior of the team and the lack of information.

"It might have been the best thing but,-" Ducky brought himself into the conversation before he was interrupted by Gibbs.

"I don't like to repeat myself," Gibbs growled, "Is there anything that will help us to find Abby? Now?"

McGee tried to arrange files on the computer so that his boss would think he was prepared for his questions and unexpected appearance. He didn't want to fall from grace even more, especially after what had happened a few moments ago.

"I was trying to locate Abby's cell phone. The latest signal came from the accident site. Either the cell phone was damaged during the crash or was smashed by her captor. We didn't find it in the car or in the surrounding area."

"The truck that rammed your car is from a car rental agency outside of DC. The identity of the leasee is on the way. It was difficult to get anything without them consulting their lawyer first," Ziva said.

"Your car and the truck are down in the garage," continued DiNozzo. "The forensics are already on it and hopefully find something soon."

Gibbs stared at the pictures of the car that had smashed into his Chrysler. He took a deep breath, wincing as his ribs reminded him of the accident as well. If they're lucky Abby would be still alive. Ducky wasn't sure what sort of injuries she could be suffering from, but by Jethro's description of what happened, he was expecting at least one serious injury which could be potentially fatal in a few days or even a few hours if untreated.  
And there was still the question of whether that guy would keep her alive for a while or kill Abby right away after kidnapping her. On one hand he wanted her dead. On the other hand, there was still a chance that he might torture her before she died. That would give them time to find and rescue her. They all knew that Abby was a strong woman, and yet it was only a matter of time before she would break, if that had not already happened.  
Gibbs didn't give a damn thinking about any chances. He wouldn't stop looking for her until he found her dead or alive.

"You're okay, Boss?" McGee who noticed him flinch, asked cautiously.

Ducky also eyed his friend with a worried glance. But Gibbs carried on like nothing happened.

"Ziva, make that rental company send the personal details of that guy NOW!" Gibbs said gruffly.

"On it!"

Ziva hurried to her desk, trying to get away from her boss' bad mood.

"Fornell is also on his way." Tony informed Gibbs.

Gibbs sighed. Of course the FBI were always involved when it came to kidnapping. He knew it and yet it bothered him every time. Although it should make work easier with two federal authorities solving a case, it only slowed it down most of the time. More paperwork, different points of view and disagreement of decisive steps were enough to slow it down.

"The customer who rented the truck is called Kenneth Michaels. He lives outside of DC if the address is correct," Ziva called out from her desk to the team.

"DiNozzo, get the car. McGee and Ziva, you check the guy and keep us posted. If there is any criminal record or anything useful, I want to know it."

"What about Fornell?" Ziva asked, holding the piece of paper with the address of the sought person in the direction of the two men.

"He must wait."

Tony grabbed his gear and left towards the elevator followed by Gibbs, who grabbed the paper from Ziva as he crossed her desk. If this bastard had Abby under his thumb he should prepare himself for his worst nightmare.

Tony was worried about his Boss. Gibbs definitely felt worse than he would ever admit. Every movement was painful. The beads of sweat on his forehead spoke volumes. DiNozzo skeptically eyed Gibbs, but thought it might be better to keep silent. He'd seen the pictures from the accident and was more than impressed by the fact that Gibbs was able to walk. From the pictures of the wreck, he wouldn't have thought that anyone survived the crash.

Tony's thoughts drifted to Abby. He was sure that if his boss might left anything of that guy, it was clear that Tony would finish him off. Abby had saved him so many times, now he'd finally be able to return the favor. Hopefully.

.

Gibbs let Tony drive to the location. The drive took too long for Gibbs, Tony could tell. There had been no call from McGee or Ziva though the drive was long enough to call at least 10 times. It seemed like the suspect was clean, either that or so skillful that he had never been caught. It made both of them kind of nervous, but they didn't show it.

After another 20 minutes of silence they turned into the courtyard of an old farmhouse. A perfect hiding place if you wanted to get rid of someone, they both agreed. Since they were running out of time, both hoped to find Abby or at least some trace of her.

They were sitting in the car and checked the surrounding area. There was a large house and three barns at the rear of the yard. A car was parked in front of large hay bales.

"Looks like he's at home," DiNozzo noticed and got out of the car.

Gibbs had to pull himself together. Deep inside he wanted to storm out of the car run to the house and press his gun against that guys forehead. He breathed as deeply as his aching ribs allowed. Due to his injuries he had trouble getting out of the car, but was only marginally slower than Tony.  
Gibbs stopped at the red car and checked the hood.

"Cold."

They entered the porch together looking around. No movements around the house. It was quiet; too quiet. They listened for any noise that might come from the inside of the house. After nothing was heard, Tony cocked his gun and knocked on the door of the old house.

"Mr. Matthews?" he exclaimed after a few seconds when nobody opened. "Federal agents. Open the door."

Gibbs checked out the dusty window beside the door, but couldn't see anything. It was unlikely that in this secluded area they would find a car but not a single person around, unless there was some other means of transportation.

"I guess, I was wrong. It looks like nobody's home." stated Tony and turned the doorknob. To his surprise the door was unlocked. With his weapon at the ready he walked into the living room or rather what may have been a living room a long time ago. It was now just old and run down.

Gibbs followed Tony. They secured the living room and advanced to the kitchen. A plate with a half- eaten sandwich on a dirty table didn't look exactly appetizing but was an indication that there might still be someone in the house.

"Tony."

Gibbs showed him the sandwich and they began to move silently through each room of the dilapidated house. They were a good team and it wasn't long until they had searched all the rooms. They were alone.

"Where is that bastard?" Gibbs asked angrily and was about to put his gun back in the holster when he noticed a bump under the filthy living room carpet. He cautiously stepped on it with his foot.

"A hatch?" asked Tony and bent down to take the carpet aside.

Gibbs was right.  
He directed his gun at the door and waited for Tony to open it. With a loud screech and a crash the rotten wooden door landed on the ground next to them. Both barrels were aimed at the unknown in the dark beneath their feet. A musty smell crept into the agent's nose and caused Tony to make a disgusted face. With a flashlight in one hand and the 9mm in the other Gibbs descended into the basement first, closely followed by Tony. He scanned the room with a practiced eye and found the wanted man.

With a mixture of anger and disappointment Gibbs put away his gun and reached for his cell phone. When the person at the other end picked up, he announced the news in a strained voice.

"Ziva, we found Kenneth Matthews. He's dead."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and for the faves on this story! You're lighten up my world! :)**

**Please tell me what you think.**

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Chapter 4

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"What are we doing now, Boss?" Tony asked after Gibbs had hung up.

"Hoping that Abby is still alive."

It had taken far too long to locate this man already. It has been their only lead and their prime suspect was dead. It was frustrating. Now they had to wait for the autopsy results that will cost them another bunch of precious time.

If it has been suicide they could safely assume that the guy had his fill and wanted to avoid any further confrontation.

If it was murder, perhaps this guy had only been an accomplice of Abby's kidnapper who had to be gotten quickly out of the way.

Gibbs took a closer look at the corpse. There was a long cut on the neck and the blood traces on the shirt that looked more like a knife attack than suicide. Ducky would be better able to judge it, but Gibbs' gut must have been mistaken if this wasn't similar to Theodore's murder. But this time it seemed like the stabbing was more deliberate. This time he wanted to kill his victim. It was no accident.

Suddenly, Gibbs began to feel worse than he had before he entered the basement. He felt an unbearable heat rising up and noticed that the room was starting to spin. The stuffy air sent him over the edge and he vomited on the ground near the stairs. Tony hurried over to him but was gruffly rejected.

Gibbs insisted on climbing the stairs without help, but he knew that DiNozzo wouldn't let him out of his sight. Outside in the fresh air he took a few deep breaths and wiped the sweat from his brow. Tony stood in the doorway and watched him skeptically.

"Come on, DiNozzo. We still need to search the other houses."

"Don't you think we should wait for the others, Boss? You don't exactly look like the picture of health, and..."

The look he received was answer enough.

.

It took a good two hours before Gibbs' MCRT arrived at the site. Two hours during which Gibbs searched for evidence and exhausted himself more than expected.

"Jethro, you should give yourself a break," Ducky admonished as he entered the crime scene with Palmer right behind. Jethro clung to the porch railing and the ME didn't miss the grim expression on his face. Ducky told Palmer with a short hand signal to enter the house first. Remarkably, it worked this time without any further misunderstandings.

"I'm fine," Gibbs replied to Ducky's concerned look.

The ME studied his friend for a moment and then looked around discreetly. He put his medical bag beside him on the dusty porch. He waited another moment until Palmer joined the others inside the house, then he turned to his bag and took out the blood pressure cuff and a stethoscope.

"Who are you trying to fool, Jethro? Do you really think that you're helping anyone here? You should take a look at yourself. You seem to be in a lot of pain."

"We both know that it's my fault that he's got her."

"Nonsense! I don't want you to think like that."

"It's true, Duck. If I hadn't insisted on getting some food on our way home, then..."

"Then he would have been waiting to get her at your house. You know that as well as I do. You probably wouldn't be alive now if he had."

"Better me than her, Duck."

"I want no further discussion. You're to sit down now and rest. Leave the work to your team. My gurney is already reserved for Mr. Michaels."

Ducky made Gibbs sit down on the steps, his hands applying a gentle pressure on his shoulders and then he instructed him to remove his jacket. He applied the blood pressure cuff to his arm.

"Tony told me that you threw up?"

Gibbs turned his gaze to the side. He should have known that Tony informed the ME about the incident downstairs. At least it explained the spontaneous disappearance of his Senior Field Agent for a brief moment an hour ago. He felt the cuff squeezing his upper arm uncomfortably for a moment and waited for Ducky to finish before he answered.

"The air wasn't the best down there," Gibbs tried to explain.

"Of course, you're not used to strange smells after all these years. And of course, the vomiting has nothing to do with the fact that you were recently involved in a car accident and were very lucky to get out of it with only a few bruises and a concussion."

Gibbs had never considered Ducky as a master of sarcasm, but it seemed that the ME could use sarcasm to get to his point across as well as the best of them.

"We're all worried about you, Jethro. And obviously not without reason."

With those words he got up and left Gibbs sitting on the porch. The pain was almost unbearable. The last of the analgesics he'd received at the hospital had worn off. The pain had worsened in the last few hours but he tried to ignore it. Right now, he was failing. He was exhausted. The wound on his temple made him almost go mad. The seam twinged and the monotonous throbbing weighed heavily on his mind; more than anyone guessed.

But that was nothing compared to the self-reproach and worry about losing Abby, his favourite. She would always be his favourite no matter what happened. He'd been through a lot of emotional pain before. He'd lost a lot of people he liked or loved: Co- workers, friends, his family.

He couldn't stand the sight of Cate's dead body on the autopsy table back then, not to mention Jen's. He wasn't sure if he could cope with seeing another loved one lying on that table.

"Boss, Ducky put the body into the car and we're also finished here. We couldn't open the car trunk, so we'll take it with us to the Navy Yard."

Tony's voice pulled Gibbs out of his thoughts. How long had he been sitting here on the stairs? Gibbs looked around confused. Ziva and McGee stowed the last few utensils in their MCRT van and glanced at Tony and Gibbs every now and then.

"Ducky told me to give you this."

Tony held out a cup and a small orange box to Gibbs. He knew that Gibbs wouldn't ask what was inside the can, but Tony was surprised when he swallowed the drugs without a word and washed them down with water.

"So, what are we doing?" asked Tony and took the things from his boss.

"Waiting for forensics."

"No, I mean with you."

Tony withstood Gibbs' intimidating gaze.

"I'll drive you home."

"No."

"To the hospital?"

"NO!"

Gibbs got up from the stairs and walked over to his car. Tony followed him.

.

The time she'd spent on the cold dusty ground seemed like days. Her body felt almost more painful than the last time she'd been conscious. Abby's mouth was dry and the iron and vomit taste didn't make it any more pleasant. She grimaced in pain and tried to suppress the nausea. She moved her head a little too quick to the side by mistake, which didn't help her well- being.

Abby still had no idea where she was or why her captor wanted to kill her. Since their first meeting, she tried to remember his face and whether they'd met before the first conscious encounter at the club or not. His identity still remained unknown. She hoped fervently that she still had a chance to come out of this alive.

Abby tried to concentrate on her body. The nausea was definitely connected to a concussion but she still couldn't remember how she got one. Her neck ached as she tried to look around in the dark room. The dim light source that had previously allowed her to see the face of her abductor was now gone. She felt her heart race. She usually wasn't a woman who was afraid of the dark. But it seemed entirely appropriate in his situation. She wasn't able to see her own hand in front of her eyes. It was all just black.

She knew that she would be lost if she continued to just lie there. She had to come up with something, at least a way she could manage to find out where she was. Of course she knew that this wouldn't be enough.

"Come on, Abigail...," she spoke to herself as she tried to sit up.

She closed her eyes and breathed as deeply as she could. Abby needed several attempts, but finally managed to sit. The pain almost made her pass out but she fought to stay conscious.

"Breathe. Slow deep breaths," she said softly, trying to get the pain under control.

Her thoughts clung to her family, not only to Gloria and her brother Luca, but especially to the other part of her family, her NCIS family. She wondered if they'd already had a lead, if they might come through the door at any moment. She became sad and an uneasy feeling was building up in her stomach, but she couldn't figure out why.

Her heart nearly stopped when she thought of Gibbs. Suddenly, a flicker of memory came back; a car accident, blood. She tried to remember any details, but she only saw Gibbs behind the wheel. The thought of him being dead or hurt, made her feel worse.

Abby hugged herself and cried briefly as she grabbed her injured arm too hard. She bit her lower lip and concentrated on her breathing. She remained silent for a moment and listened. Wherever she was, she seemed to be alone now because this time no one responded to her scream.

Only then did Abby notice that she was trembling. The cold floor and the blood loss had cooled her down completely. It didn't help much despite the fact that she was wearing trousers instead of one of her mini-skirts.

"I have to find something to keep me warm...," she thought and tried to explore the surrounding area with her good arm.

She couldn't find anything other more than dust, soil and other dirt. Oblivious, she wiped her hand in her pants. She really had to try to get up. The thought alone caused another surge of nausea.

She felt that her circulation was pretty groggy, judging by the countless attempts to get up. She had only one arm to lean on and the pain in her back was almost unbearable. She couldn't be sure that her legs would obey her. She couldn't say if the room really turned in front of her eyes as she saw nothing. But Abby knew the feeling well and it definitely felt like that.

She found a rotting basement shelf with which she could pull herself up. For the first time she felt a dull cramping pain in her abdomen as she summoned all of her strength together to get a hold on the shelf. She remembered that she hadn't eaten all day. She wished she could have at least a large cup of Caf-Pow! and the luck to be found soon.

.

"Agent David. It's a pleasure to see you again."

Ziva walked into the squad room and discovered Tobias Fornell sitting at Gibbs' desk.

"Agent Fornell," she said, and stuffed her backpack and jacket behind her desk.

"I thought I would be alone here all day. What about "Team Gibbs"? I already had a cup of coffee with the director while I waited for some of you to come back."

Fornell sipped on his coffee and watched Ziva.

"Did you find Ms. Sciuto?"

"Not so far, unfortunately," said Tony, as he walked into the squad room at that moment.

"The yard was clean, at least in a figurative sense. Still can't believe somebody actually lived there. How are you Agent Fornell?"

"Good, thanks, Agent DiNozzo. Published a BOLO, but we weren't very successful with the sketch NCIS mailed to us, so far. No idea where that guy is hiding."

Tony sat down at his desk and threw his things carelessly behind him.

"Where's Gibbs?" Fornell asked eventually.

"Autopsy." Tony answered but felt the questioning look of the FBI agent resting on him. "He's not doing so well, but better than most of Ducky's other patients."

"What happened? Vance didn't tell me," Fornell asked sounding concerned.

"Car accident," answered Tony.

"How bad?"

"His car got rammed by a van. Two people were killed, Abby kidnapped. Gibbs would never admit it, but he's feeling worse than he's letting on. That leaves us doing all the work right now."

"Any new leads on your suspect?"

"Not yet. I will check the data on our deceased" Ziva said, spurring another question from Fornell.

"Another corpse?"

"Yes. Kenneth Michaels. Our only suspect so far. Found him dead in the basement of his house."

"That's not good...," muttered Fornell. "Background check?"

"No living relatives. He owned the farm since the death of his father 10 years ago," Ziva began.

"Average grades, no criminal record, no connection to the Navy. And yet he was the one who rented the truck and rammed Gibbs' car."

"Murdered?" asked Fornell looking with a serious face at the two agents.

"That's what Dr. Mallard is trying to find out right now."

"Maybe the FBI can find out more about your guy," Fornell said, standing up. "Gotta check on Gibbs. Keep me posted."

"Of course."

Tony and Ziva looked at Fornell as he left.

"How's Gibbs?" Ziva asked and sounded concerned.

"He doesn't want us to worry. We should focus on Abby and that bastard who took her."

"But we haven't the slightest idea of where-"

They were interrupted by a shrill ringing. Ziva didn't let the caller wait too long and picked up after the first ring.

"McGee, what's up?"

Tony waited patiently, trying to read Ziva's face while she talked to McGee. His trained eyes made him realize very fast that there was no good news.

"We're almost there," she said and hurried to the elevator.

"McGee found something. We should tell Gibbs about it."

"No, let him have a rest. Currently, I am in charge. We inform him later when he's feeling better. What did McGee find, Ziva? Ziva!"

Tony ran after Ziva who was already in the elevator.

"He wouldn't say."

.

They left the elevator together and spotted McGee in a red overall, who stared, as if rooted to the ground, in the trunk of Kenneth Michaels' car.

"Probie? What have you found? It might help if you tell us," said Tony tense and exceptional, biting back any comment on McGees' outfit.

Tony and Ziva took a look in the trunk and neither knew what to say or think. They couldn't decide if this was good or bad.

"A lot of blood," Ziva remarked coolly and gulped.

"Not what I expected." said Tony and otherwise seemed to be speechless.

Everything they found so far looked unimportant, but the contents of the trunk brought a new twist into the game, one that Tony didn't like.  
McGee photographed the contents of the trunk once more. He wasn't sure whether or not he'd already done it after calling Ziva. Finally, he reached in and pulled out a black lacquer handbag.

"It's Abby's."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you for everything that happened here in the last months! Let me thank you for every fave or follow of the story, that's really cheering me up! Had a hard time last year. A close family member was in severe physical condition. I had to cope with it, and I needed to get my head clear first before I finish this story. Now everything's going back to normal and I can give you chap 5.**

**I know this is a strange and short chapter at the end of it. The next one will be normal again and explain everything that happened here. Please read and review! I'd love to know what you think! Stay tuned! :) ~ Wylie**

**(Warning: Gore. A bit.)  
**

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Chapter 5

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

_Still in the evidence garage, NCIS headquarter_

"It looks like Mr. Michaels wasn't as uninvolved in Abby's abduction as we first thought. Sometimes it's hard to see the wood for the trees."

Tony was the first to find his voice. Ziva temporarily kept her thoughts to herself.

"Probie, you examine the bag for fingerprints and check if the blood in the trunk is Abby's. Call me when you know more," Tony said and walked towards the elevator.

"Yes, Boss."

McGee was still holding Abby's bag in his hands and walked over to one of the tables. He began to remove the contents, photographed everything and took fingerprints. He couldn't believe that he had found her bag. That bastard really had something to do with her abduction. If he could, he would take revenge on him, no matter what that guy may have done to Abby. The fact that she was missing was enough to raise his anger towards him.

"Are you still convinced that we should withhold the information McGee found out from Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"We don't withhold anything from him. But we should give him a little more than just Abby's handbag and a bit of blood, don't ya think?" asked Tony in reply.

"McGee will take care of the fingerprints and we'll check Michaels calls, his contacts, bank account and what else we can find."

Ziva followed Tony to the elevator and they both entered it.

"Do you think Abby is still alive?" she finally asked as the elevator doors shut.

Tony took a deep breath and looked at her.

"I''ll assume that she's still alive until we prove the contrary."

"Me too."

.

A chill ran down her spine. She felt like she was being watched, but she couldn't feel the presence of another person in the room. She probably knew more about spying and eavesdropping than her captor did, but this knowledge didn't reassure her that she would get out of there alive. If he'd installed a camera with night vision, she could definitely forget escape from this room. But she had to try it anyway.

Darkness fuelled her fear that she was more than just helpless. She was hurt; knew nothing about her abductor or her whereabouts. She didn't even know for how long she'd been there or if her friends had found a trail to her kidnapper already. Terrified, she looked behind her again slowly while she still clung desperately to the shelf. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stand upright.

The previous kick in the stomach wasn't very powerful, but she didn't want to even imagine what the guy had in store for her. The cramps in her stomach weren't getting any better, but she kept trying to stay on her feet and hopefully find a way out of there. At least she'd tried to escape. It was her only chance. She felt her way along the shelf hoping she'd find a door or window, but she didn't make it more than a few meters.

Abby stopped when she heard a noise behind her. Her grip on the shelf strengthened. She felt the pounding of her heartbeat clearly in her throat. Eyes wide, she stared into the darkness. It was impossible to see anything; yet she imagined seeing something. She wasn't able to take a deep breath due to the merciless pain in her chest. She felt weak.

"Hello?" she asked carefully, as it became dead quiet again.

Dust and dirt crumbled down at her. It stuck to the congealing blood. Wood creaked quite close to her and Abby's heart skipped a beat. She wasn't able to tell the direction from which the sound came. The thought that her abductor might just be standing right next to her made her almost go crazy.

So many scary scenes were playing inside her head that she started to hyperventilate imperceptibly. Abby didn't notice until she felt dizzy and tried immediately to calm herself down with no great success. With her heart beating and blood rushing in her ears, she closed her eyes, but only briefly. Although she couldn't see anything, there was a spark of safety if she kept her eyes open.

Abby shivered. She checked the shelf but couldn't find anything except a few cobwebs and dust. The chance that she'd make it across the room without an accident to look for a blanket, or something similar, was getting smaller. She felt weaker every second she tried to stand or walk. Her enthusiasm to escape suddenly disappeared. She felt that she could only hope to be found.

"Please get me out of here..." she whispered.

Gently she tried to slide down on the shelf, but the sudden pain in her back made her lose her balance and she landed uncontrollably on the hard, cold floor.

She didn't notice that the door had opened and someone had entered her prison. He lit the room with a torch and found her motionless body in front of him. He watched her for a moment as if he wanted to be sure that she was still alive.

"They found Kenneth's body," he said, more to himself than to Abby.

"It's not good. I'm not sure how much your friends have found out by now, but I won't let them find you alive."

He was breathing heavily when he pulled a knife out of his jean's pocket.

"Actually you should have been dead a long time ago. I owe it to my brother."

.

"Open the door!" DiNozzo screamed, after waiting a few seconds for a response that never came.

Again he knocked again against the old wooden door of a rundown apartment.

"Federal agents! Open the door!" he launched a final attempt.

Before Tony could even threaten to enter the door, it was opened by the owner. Without further warning, he was rudely pushed against the wall by Tony and the rest of the team set out to investigate the apartment.

Ziva went, gun raised, through the rear of the apartment. Determined, she threw open the door to the bathroom and wrinkled her nose in disgust. It smelled as if not only the drain had been clogged for weeks, the toilet flush seemed to be damaged, too. As soon as she had opened the door she closed it again and went back towards the living room.

"Clear."

McGee had checked the kitchen and met up with Ziva in the hall. Gibbs had already searched the living room and was back at the door with Tony.

"What are you doing here?" the guy asked angrily and tried to rip loose from DiNozzo's tight grip.

"Welcome to this little surprise party."

"Leave me alone!"

DiNozzo tightened his grip with which he held the wanted man in check.

"Not before you tell us where you're keeping our forensic scientist. That's going to make things much easier."

"What? I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yeah, that's what they all say. And then we show them the evidence we have against them, and suddenly they remember everything," DiNozzo said, searching for his handcuffs.

"Where is she?" Gibbs asked angrily.

"I said, I don't have a clue what you're talking about," the guy insisted.

Gibbs grabbed the guy by the shirt and pushed him back against the door frame. He ignored the tormented face of his opponent. He didn't care if that bastard felt any pain.

"You can stop your games. We know very well that you have kidnapped Abigail Sciuto. Tell us where she is. Now!"

Gibbs tried to stay calm, but he didn't succeed. All the evidence told him that the man he had just pushed against the door was Abby's kidnapper.

"We couldn't find a hidden room, Gibbs," Ziva said as she came to the front door with McGee in tow. "Is there a basement or attic?"

All looked questioningly at the apartment owner. Gibbs pulled him away impatiently a few inches from the door, only to push him back against it. If he could, he would shoot the guy immediately. He felt that something was wrong, but couldn't put a finger on it. He stared at the guy as enraged as he managed.

„Enough already! Speak!"

"It ... I ... my basement is No. 12," he said finally and Gibbs let go of him.

Together with Ziva and McGee in tow Gibbs made his way to the cellar. He felt the tension of his team clearly behind his back. He himself didn't really feel better. His heart was pounding and it took a great effort not to freak out.

It was the all-decisive clue that had led them to this guy. What if they were wrong? What if he wasn't the kidnapper? Evidence can't be wrong. That's what Gibbs knew. But he felt more and more nervous, the longer the way became. Gibbs didn't want to imagine what would happen if they were too late. But before he was ready to cope with what might be, he had to look reality in the eye.

Ziva destroyed the lock of the ramshackle basement door with a well-aimed shot from her Sig. She carefully opened the door and scanned the room with her flashlight. It took a fraction of a second until she discovered Abby's lifeless body lying in the middle of the room. Petrified she held her flashlight in the direction while Gibbs pushed past her.

"Abby!"

"Oh my God," McGee whispered, staring paralyzed at the body in front of him.

Gibbs knew that they were too late. He'd seen a lot of injuries in his career at NCIS and during active duty. He knelt beside Abby and fumbled desperately for a pulse, even though he knew he wouldn't find one. The knife in her abdomen and pool of blood around her body spoke volumes. He knelt in the middle of the puddle, but it didn't bother him.

While Ziva phoned Tony to break the news, McGee was still standing paralyzed in the door frame. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing. Abby couldn't be dead. It wasn't supposed to end like that, he was sure. He was thrown out of his trance-like state by Ziva, who took him with her to get Ducky down there.

Gibbs noticed the reaction from the team only it was a blur. He looked desperately at his favourite. Dead. He ran a hand through her hair and down her cheek. He felt her cold skin. She looked peaceful. He assumed that she'd been unconscious when her captor stabbed her. There were no signs that she had fought him. His hand trembled. He told himself to stay calm, but he found it harder to breathe the longer he looked at Abby.

Dead. The reality hit him like a bullet in the head. He had failed.


End file.
